Watership Down
by SleepyCantWrite
Summary: Short little drabble involving Frank and Donnie. Hints at slash if you squint a bit.


"_Watership Down_?"

Donnie's head whipped up over the top of the page and automatically moved to halt whatever activity he was currently engaged in, and prepared himself to deny he was doing anything at all and to tell the intruder to _get out of his room_. Just like that, all in one spectacularly awkward motion.

It was only Frank.

Donnie couldn't tell him to get out, he wasn't technically _in_; his head was arched around the doorway, one hand resting on the doorknob, the other – well, Donnie couldn't see but it was probably in his pocket or something. His feet were planted in the hall outside though; definitely outside the boundary in which he could be told to fuck off. You couldn't really tell guests to fuck off anyway. The teen made a show of hauling himself up to rest against his headboard, flatten down his shirt, while hoping Frank would either go away or invite himself in – it seemed horribly voyeuristic to just stand there watching him. Frank was…

Well, Frank was still waiting for an answer.

Donnie hastily turned the book over to read the cover, as if for confirmation - as if to make sure the novel hadn't switched to something else without him looking. It hadn't changed. The cover still bore the image of that dumb fucking bunny rabbit.

"Yeah. _Watership Down_. We have to, we – our English class – we have to read it."

Frank smiled and disregarded the other's horrific massacre of grammar and sentence structure. "Elizabeth's not here."

"Oh."

The older boy smiled patiently -expectantly- as his eyes remained transfixed, hawk-like, on the cornered rabbit. Silently, they coaxed Donnie to allow him to enter, this one place of respite from life, the world, whatever, even if he didn't want to. Frank had a way of getting what he wanted, without actually doing anything.

"You want to come in?"

"Just to kill time until she comes back."

"Sure."

Frank half-smirked, victoriously, and politely eased himself into the room, just as one would ease their arm around a date at the cinema. Probably like in fucking when-

Donnie wouldn't have told Frank to get lost, but it still bugged him that he didn't have the choice.

Donnie dog-eared his place in _Watership Down_. While he wasn't looking, he felt the mattress depress and acknowledgedFrank had seated himself on the edge of his bed, for lack of having any other form of seating in the little box room. Donnie found himself thinking it was impolite that he didn't have any other seat to offer, but then noted that he didn't _normally_ appreciate visitors and therefore didn't normally _require_ additional places to sit.

"So do you like this?"

The teen's attention crashed into the figure on the opposite end of the bed. He imagined his own expression being reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights of an 18-wheeler. Not that you got many of those round here - deer _or_ articulated trucks, but all the same; the analogy was probably accurate.

Frank gestured to _Watership Down_, still held by Donnie. "The rabbit book. I've been meaning to read it."

"I hate it." Donnie's lips twisted into a grin, but he didn't smile. "The whole book is bullshit; I mean, what do I care that some fucking bunny rabbits are going to die because of something we've done? It happens _all the time, _but now I'm supposed to feel bad about it? All rabbits ever do is fuck anyway; some die so the rest fuck a whole lot more to make up for it. It's just a cycle of dying and being replaced and forgotten about and none of them will feel anything about the whole thing. Why should I be made to feel bad for being the superior species, here?"

He was being weird again. The right answer would have been to say he enjoyed it, and maybe thrown in a couple of sympathetic words regarding the rabbits and how awful we are as a species. God, he was such an idiot. Donnie expected Frank to smile politely, mumble something about how _interesting_ that was and quickly excuse himself. Which was good. Donnie had wanted him to leave anyway. He didn't care what Frank thought of him.

Well, Frank was smiling.

"I think I'll enjoy it."

Donnie stole a glance over the book; it was easier to fix a stare on an inanimate object, rather than endure eye contact - the book didn't mind. "I can – when I've finished it – I'll let you know and…if you want you can borrow it."

The teen brushed his thumb down the edge of _Watership Down_, the pages making a soft ripping noise. Frank took it off him, without meeting resistance, and flipped the book over to read the blurb. Donnie's hands fidgeted without something to keep them occupied. They took refuge in the hem of his shirt, then to scratch the side of his nose, then to rest in his hair.

Frank lazily dragged his gaze from the book to Donnie. "To be honest, I don't think I'd mind being a rabbit."


End file.
